Surround me
by Sigma Creations
Summary: AU one-shot set in early series 9 and inspired by the song "Surround me with your love" by 3-11 Porter.


The end of another long day and she's tired, so very tired. Everyone's gone home and she's the last one on the Grid yet again. She rubs her eyes tiredly, sighing softly in defeat as she realises that she's not going to complete this report tonight. Deciding to call it a night then, she begins gathering her papers into a neat pile before she's distracted by a noise. She looks up to find Lucas just returning to his work station after making a cup of tea.

"Oh," she says in surprise, "I thought everyone had left already."

"No," he shakes his head, "I need to speak to Harry." His tone of voice doesn't invite conversation, so, with a nod, she turns back to tidying her files, wondering what's bothering him. He's been acting a little off lately and she finds herself worrying over it. Normally, she'd talk to Harry about it, but things between them have been strained lately... since she'd said no.

It's been during these past few weeks that she's come to realise how much of her job satisfaction depends on her close relationship with Harry. Now that she no longer has that, she realises how much she valued it, how much joy it brought to her otherwise lonely and rather sad existence.

It's ironic really that the reason she'd said no was because she'd been happy with what they'd had; a closeness that she'd never experienced with anyone before in her life and one she'd missed so much while she'd been away. They're in their element here. Here they can be themselves without needing to hide any part of who they are and what they do. They're Ruth and Harry, fighting together against those who threaten their country, its institutions and its citizen, a team to be reckoned with, two people who work together hand in glove and who can almost read each other's thoughts. But every time they've attempted to move their relationship outside of Thames House, things have gone wrong. They misinterpret and misunderstand each other, they lose their connection and they're no longer together, but they suddenly become two people lost at sea, struggling to remain afloat and find their way back to each other.

A pod slides open and Harry steps through, barely sparing her a glance before turning toward his office and disappearing inside it. She feels her heart ache at she watches him close the door, shutting out the world, including her. Gone are the looks filled with hidden meaning, gone is the connection. She's angry and hurt by his reaction to her refusal to marry him, but though, on the one hand, it seems childish of him to be acting in this way, on the other, can she really blame him? He wanted more and she said no. So what is left for him to do but attempt to protect himself, to protect his heart? After all, who wants to be in love with someone who's not interested, or who won't give as much as one wants or needs? And what exactly is it that Harry wants? He never really explained that. Is it really the extra person at his funeral? Is it not wanting to return to an empty house any more? Is it a desire to-

"Harry, can I have a word?" Lucas's deep voice thankfully intrudes on her thoughts. She turns her head and just catches a glimpse of him disappearing into Harry's office before the door slides shut behind him. She frowns, again wondering what it is that's troubling Lucas. She's going to have to look into it, she decides as she turns back to her work.

She backs up all her files and logs off, shutting down her terminal, locking her folders in her desk drawer, and turning to gather her things. She looks up then as she debates with herself whether to go and tell Harry she's leaving, but as she catches sight of him through the glass wall of his office, she finds herself suddenly unable to look away. It's his body language as he stands listening to Lucas that has her transfixed, and when he sits on the edge of his desk, his arms folded across his chest, and he watches Lucas shouting something at him, she has such a strong feelingofdéjà vuthat it almost leaves her breathless. Suddenly she's transported back to a time when Ros was standing there, angrily accusing Harry of betraying her trust by not letting her know about her father's sentence. She cannot hear what they're saying now as, this time, the door is closed and Harry's office is sound-proof, but as Lucas storms out the door, she sees the same look on Harry's face as he raises his hand to cover his eyes and she feels the same tug on her heart to go and offer him comfort.

She's already taken a few steps toward his office door when it suddenly strikes her that the situations are very similar, not just on the surface, but on a deeper level too. Last time she'd refused a second date and yet she hadn't been able to stop herself from going to him, and this time she's refused his hand, and again, she's thinking about going to comfort him. But it suddenly seems so unfair of her, this thing that she does, pushing him away and then drawing him close again, never quite letting him go. It's not a conscious action on her part, she knows that. But this is the first time she realises how it must feel for him, how unfair he must think her. So she veers away from his door and goes to the bathroom instead, putting herself out of temptation's reach, trying for once to be fair to him, to give him the space he clearly wants and needs, and when she's safely locked in one of the stalls, she can't help but shed a few tears for all that she's lost.

* * *

She knocks softly on his door, deeply regretting that it has come to this, that she's no longer any different from anyone else on the team. She almost went home without saying goodnight, but it felt wrong to do that, so here she is, knocking on his door instead of barging in unannounced as usual.

"Come in," he calls, and when she slides the door open, she's surprised to see him still sitting on the edge of his desk, his arms still crossed in front of his chest. He looks so tired and defeated that the urge to walk up to him and squeeze his arm in silent support is overwhelming.

"I'm off home," she says as she steps into his office. "Is there anything you need me to do before I go?"

"No," he shakes his head, "nothing."

Nothing, she repeats inside her head and her heart sinks at the thought. From something, to perhaps everything, and now... nothing. They stand still, watching each other for a few moments, and as jumbled thoughts about them, what was, what could have been, crowd her mind, she slowly becomes aware of soft music playing in the background. She frowns as she focuses on it, wondering where it's coming from. "What's that?" she asks.

"What's what?"

"That music," she says as she moves further into his office and makes a bee-line for his desk, recognising that the sound is coming from his computer.

"Oh, it's nothing," he says hastily as he unfolds his arms and pushes himself off his desk. "Just a CD my daughter gave me."

"It's nice," she murmurs as she stops by his desk listening. "May I?" she asks, reaching her hand toward the volume control of the speakers.

He nods as he turns to face her, their positions temporarily reversed as she stands behind his desk and he in front of it. She turns it up a little and moves back, suddenly feeling uncomfortable as she recognises that she's invading his space again and remembers that she's no longer welcome here. Looking for something to do with her hands as she struggles to suppress her emotions, she picks up the CD case which is lying on the desk and glances at the cover as he steps round the other side of the desk, making his way toward his office chair. Before he gets there, however, they both stop moving as the instrumental part of the song finishes and, almost simultaneously, they become aware of the lyrics of the song that's playing.

"Hello,

I'm so lonely,

And it feels like a disease.

Come and stay,

Stay beside me,

Stay always,

Forever, don't go."

She lifts her eyes from the CD cover to look at him, feeling suddenly breathless and her heart rate trebling in an instant. He's staring at her, his eyes dark and unreadable, and she feels tears spring to her own as she realises that perhaps it really is too late for them, perhaps she's really broken what they had this time. And she suddenly realises that she wants to give more of herself to him; she wants to give him everything because she can't bear to have nothing.

"Surround me with your love.

Understand me,

I need you now.

Surround me with your words,

Understand me,

I need your love.

I need your love.

I need your love..."

She imagines him saying the words that fill the room, and she knows with sudden clarity that these are Harry's words, this is what he wants, what he was asking for when he proposed. She sees it all so clearly now, and she knows that it's what she wants from him too and what she wants to give him regardless of whether they're on the Grid, or in a little house in Sussex.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, depositing the CD case back on his desk and wiping away a stray tear that slides down her cheek unbidden. "I'm so sorry, Harry." His eyes soften slightly and she takes a step forward, quoting softly, "Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone forever."

He smiles softly, murmuring, "Never, Ruth. Never too late." Then slowly he raises his hands a little from where they hang loosely at his sides, opening his arms gently toward her in invitation, and she doesn't even hesitate before taking the few steps forward that are necessary for her to reach him and step into his embrace. She feels his arms wrap around her, drawing her against him, and his cheek press lightly against her forehead as she slips her arms round his waist and rests her head against his shoulder, her face turned toward him. He's so wonderfully warm and solid, his frame so much larger than her own, and he smells so good. It feels so wonderful to be close to him like this, so safe, so perfect, and she wonders why it's taken her so long to get here when it's where she's always wanted to be. She's sure it must have something to do with losing her father at an early age, or at least that's what any psychologist would say, but it feels so right that she decides, then and there, that she's never going to leave the security of his embrace again.

"I love you," she whispers against his chest.

He lifts his head and leans back a little to look at her, so she pulls back and turns her head until their gazes meet. He's smiling softly, his eyes sparkling pools of such devotion that they leave her breathless. He says nothing, but he doesn't need to; his eyes say it all. They don't do well with half-measures, she realises. Both of them are all or nothing kind of people, and having decided that she can't live with nothing, she abruptly makes up her mind that she will have everything. "Ask me again, Harry," she murmurs softly and a little nervously. "Please... ask me again."

He frowns slightly in confusion, but then his eyes clear and he looks at her with a mixture of hope and disbelief. "You mean-"

"Yes," she interrupts. "Ask me again."

He clears his throat and murmurs softly, "Marry me, Ruth?"

"Yes, Harry," she replies swiftly, almost before he's finished speaking.

"Yes?" he asks in disbelief, his voice cracking slightly, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

"Yes. A thousand times yes," she smiles, her whole face glowing with happiness.

He exhales heavily, releasing a stream of air across her cheek as he pulls her close once more, holding her in a fierce embrace, and she suspects that he's fighting hard to not break down in tears. She pretends not to notice, however, and instead rubs her hands up and down his back for a little while, delighting once more in finding herself in his arms again, pressed against his solid strength.

She feels the rhythm of his chest rising and falling against hers change as he calms and he begins to take deep relaxing breaths. Then she turns her head toward him, nuzzling her nose under his chin a couple of times before turning and pressing soft kisses against the bare skin of his neck. Soon she feels his breathing change again, becoming heavier and shallower, and then she feels him lift his head and turn toward her, pressing his lips softly against her cheek bone. She tilts her head back, trailing kisses from his neck to his jaw until their lips meet, finally coming together again after so long. The kiss is familiar, gentle and loving like last time, and she stops to enjoy it fully, feeling so very grateful that there's no captain calling out for her to hurry up, that she can just _be_ and savour this precious moment.

She relishes it, pressing her lips to his repeatedly as she slips one hand up to cup his face, running her thumb against the rough stubble of his cheek. It doesn't take long for liquid desire to begin pooling in her abdomen, and it's been so long since the last time she's felt it, that it overwhelms her a little and she seems to lose control over herself, her body reacting as if it has a mind of its own. Her hand slips down his back to just below his waist as she pulls him closer, her other one sliding behind his neck, her fingers tangling in his soft curls, now longer than she's ever seen them before, her lips part and her tongue slips out to taste him, a moan of pleasure unconsciously escaping her. And he responds just as eagerly, his lips parting below hers as he deepens the kiss, his breathing now heavier and faster, audible above the music, and she can feel him against her abdomen as he begins to stir and thicken, hardening with desire.

Soon they pull apart breathlessly, their chests heaving as they attempt to catch their breath. He tilts his head forward, gently resting his forehead against hers as he murmurs her name softly. She hums in response, smiling happily as her mind catches up with what's just happened and she whispers, "Wow! You really know how to kiss, Harry Pearce."

"Mmmm," he agrees with a big, boyish grin. "So do you, Miss Evershed."

"I don't know," she replies as she pulls back a little to look at him. "I'm sure there's plenty of room for improvement. I haven't had any practice in years."

"Yes, well," he grins, "practice makes perfect. I'd be... happy to help with that."

"Oh, good," she smiles as she moves her lips toward his again. "I was counting on it."

This kiss is as intense as the previous one and their hands grow bolder now, hers slipping under his jacket to glide over his shirt, his lifting her top a little and coming to rest against her hips, his thumbs and several fingers stroking her skin sensually, sending shivers of pleasure running up and down her spine and causing her hair to rise up in goosebumps. When they come up for air again, he takes a step back from her, and she looks at him with a puzzled frown, acutely feeling the loss of his warm body against hers. "I'm sorry," he pants. "I need... a moment."

She smiles in understanding, feeling a little smug at the effect she's having on him. She watches him as he turns away, loosening his tie and undoing a couple of buttons on his shirt before resting his hands on the desk for a moment and leaning forward as he takes deep breaths to steady himself.

Once he's calmed a little, he turns to face her again, murmuring, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" she asks with a mischievous smile. "Finding me irresistible? I assure you, you never have to apologise for that, Harry."

He smiles, taking a step closer to her and resting his hands on her hips again. "I've missed this playful side of you, Ruth," he murmurs. "I haven't seen it in so very long, not since before we went out to dinner. I've often found myself wondering if I'd destroyed it by asking you out too soon."

"Oh, Harry," she sighs, lifting her hand to stroke his cheek as she sees the sadness in his eyes. "Of course not. It wasn't your fault. None of it, Harry. As cliché as it sounds, it was me. I was scared to get too close in case... I lost you."

"And now?" he asks.

"Now..." she shakes her head, letting her hands slip down to grab the lapels of his jacket as she lowers her gaze, "I've just realised how _stupid_ I've been... and how unfair to you." She looks up at him and murmurs, "I never let you get close, but I never let you go either. I'm sorry, Harry. It was never a conscious decision on my part. I did... I _do_ love you and I couldn't stop myself from expressing that love whenever I saw you hurting. But I realised today that it was _so_ unfair of me to do that, that I had no right to. So I didn't let myself come in just now to offer you comfort after Lucas left, but while I was in the bathroom, I realised that, if I don't do that any more, then we truly won't have anything... and I couldn't face that, Harry. I can't face having _nothing._"

"We could never have nothing, Ruth. There will always be something," he replies gently.

"But something's not enough any more, Harry," she smiles. "I want _everything_. I realised something just now. That you and I don't do half-measures. We either do something completely or not at all. That's why our relationship has been such a mess for so long. We do well at work because at work we give everything, but the dating and the first steps of a personal relationship, we'll always fail at because neither of us are good at doing the in between parts. We can do it with other people because they're good at it and they keep us afloat, but the two of us together, we just flounder and drown."

"But where does that leave us, Ruth?" he frowns in concern. "I don't want anyone else. I only want you. You're all I've ever wanted."

"That's the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me," she smiles, lifting her hand to stroke his cheek again and gazing at him adoringly. "Don't worry, Harry," she says. "You've already figured it out. We skip the in between bits. We get married... tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" he asks in disbelief.

"Well, it's a little late to do it tonight, so yes, tomorrow," she smiles. "We get married tomorrow, then we move in together and just give it our best shot. We give everything."

"Ruth," he murmurs hoarsely, "are you sure?"

"Yes," she assures him. "All we need is a marriage licence and a couple of rings. And two witnesses, I think. I'll look it up in the morning. Now, I think, it's time to go home."

"Home?"

"Yes, Harry, home. We can't spend all night here. Which do you fancy, yours or mine?" she smiles, enjoying the look of delight that appears in his eyes at her words.

"I have no preference, Ruth," he shrugs, "as long as we go home together."

"Right," she nods. "Let's try yours tonight and mine tomorrow. I think Beth said something about going to see her parents for the weekend. And if we don't like either, we sell them both and buy one together. What do you think?"

"You're serious about this," he states and his face is quite something to behold. She's never seen it infused with so much joy before.

"Of course, I'm serious, Harry," she grins, unable to hold in her own happiness. "Haven't you been listening? Don't tell me that, once we're married, you'll stop listening to me altogether!"

"Oh, I'll be listening all right," he growls. "Especially if you're inviting me to bed."

"I don't believe I said anything about bed, Harry," she teases.

"No?" he asks, taking a step closer to her, pressing their bodies together. "Well, Ruth, seeing as you've just invited yourself to _my _house for tonight, I believe it's up to me to determine the sleeping arrangements, and since the spare room is rather full of boxes, I think it would be wisest if you slept in _my_ bed... with me. We wouldn't want you to trip over anything in the middle of the night, now, would we?"

"Your bed, huh?" she replies thoughtfully. "Well, that changes things, Harry." She watches his face fall at her words, but not wanting him to suffer long, she adds quickly with a cheeky smile, "I don't think you can call it sleeping arrangements frankly, seeing as there won't be a lot of sleeping going on if we share a bed tonight."

"Can't even wait one night until we're married, eh, Ruth?" he asks with a grin.

"Why wait when you can begin the honeymoon early? I've heard that it's the best part," she replies with a cheeky smile.

"Because it's traditional, Ruth," he murmurs seriously, "and if we're really doing this, then we should do it properly."

"I'm sorry?" she asks in surprise. "You want to wait until afterwe're married?" He nods, so she adds, "And what if we're not compatible? It'll be rather awkward to discover that _after _we've signed the register."

"Oh, we'll be compatible all right, Ruth," he almost growls. "I'm one-hundred-percent certain of that fact."

"Really?" she smiles. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because, Ruth," he whispers in her ear, making her shiver and lean into him for support lest her legs give out from under her, "I've thought about it for almost a decade, because I've felt the electricity of our touch, because I've lost all sense of time and place when we've kissed, because together we do everything brilliantly, because I love you more than life itself, and because I _know_ I make love even better than I kiss. That's why."

"Mmmmm," she hums as she fights to regain her composure and get her mind back into gear. "All right, you've convinced me." She opens her eyes to find him watching her with a smug look on his face. "We'll be spectacular together, but now I'm even less certain that I'll be able to sleep in your bed tonight. I'm not sure I'll be able to keep my hands off you." His smile broadens into a big grin before he leans in to kiss her firmly on the lips. "What was that for?" she asks when he pulls back.

"I think I'll enjoy it very much if you can't keep your hands off me, Ruth," he murmurs. "Nobody said we couldn't... have a little fun tonight. Let's just not consummate our relationship until after our wedding, okay?"

He looks a little worried and uncertain all of a sudden, making her smile fondly at him. "That's fine, Harry," she assures him, "It's rather sweet that you want to wait. I'm fine with just kissing and cuddling tonight, and I'm sure I'll sleep better with you near me than I have in years."

"Good," he smiles. "Right. Enough time wasted, I think. Grab your things, Ruth, and I'll drive us home."

* * *

**Many thanks to theoofoof for her suggestions and to all of you for reading. Please leave a review if you have a moment. Cheers, S.C.**

**Notes:**

The quote "Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone forever." is from Jane Austen's Persuasion.

The song is "Surround me with your love" by 3-11 Porter.

Full lyrics:

Hello,  
Can you hear me?  
Please don't go;  
Where are you going?  
Conversations go over my head.  
Isolation has an ugly face.  
Surround me with your love  
Understand me;

I need you now  
Surround me with your words  
Understand me

I need your love  
I need your love  
I need your love

Hello,  
I'm so lonely,  
And it feels like disease.  
Come and stay,

stay beside me.  
Stay always,

forever don't go  
Surround me with your love  
Understand me;

I need you now  
Surround me with your words,  
Understand me;

I need your love


End file.
